Picture of Grief

This is a picture that I made yesterday, for a website in regards to loss. The website is stillbirthday.com

If you would like to make a picture representing loss, feel free, and e-mail them to the following; heidi.faith@stillbirthday.com



I titled this picture:

"Immeasurable Love"





My picture represents a broken heart... shattered to pieces... but brought back together, by God.



If you begin at the left side, you will see tear drops, colored blue and pink. These tear drops represent the sons and daughters that are loss... each drop, holding the mother's and father's hopes and dreams...



The tear drops are caught by the hand of God... He catches each and every one...



Below His hand, you will find a sea of tears, colored in blue and pink...



It is shaded black throughout the left, signifying grief and anger...



As you move to the middle, you will find the "O", this represents the child no longer living, but remembered with a lit candle... because we will NEVER forget... they once lived...



On your right, you will notice the picture capturing the colors of the rainbow... bringing about hope, love and peace...



The "O" in the middle has the dark and light colors meet, because though we strive to keep going, and living a life for those gone to soon... we have moments when the darkness pulls us in...



BUT... God is bigger... and better... He continually holds us... our children...



... and carries us back into the light, where we find hope...





~Jennifer Ross, 2013~

Walking With You ~ Finding Hope and Healing With or Without a Rainbow

"For the final WWY post in this segment, we will share our experiences with longing for another baby to fill our empty arms. Some experienced a subsequent pregnancy after loss. Some may be fearful of embarking on that journey again. Some may not be able to have another child, whether due to infertility or other reasons. Some may have found that having another baby, however precious a gift, was not the key to healing the grief. Can you experience hope and healing…even if there is no rainbow after the storm? Lori will be guest posting on this blog and I will share some thoughts as well. We hope many of you will also join in, linking your own posts."




After having my dreams ripped from my heart... from my arms... I refused to not allow God to bless us with another child. My husband and I had not used any form of birth control, but instead, consistently prayed for God to knit a precious child within my womb. I don't even think that I asked... I begged.

Why did I want to experience pregnancy so soon after burying my child? To be honest, the loss falls into a separate category, than having your dreams of mothering a child fresh from the surroundings of your womb, into your arms.

When Isaiah died...

My.Life.Shattered.

I couldn't bring him back, no matter how many tears I continually cried, or how much I pleaded with the Lord. He was gone.

I had been robbed of many joys...

Rubbing my cheek along his soft delicate baby cheeks...

Feeding and changing him every two hours, for nights that would have seemed endless...

Introducing my handsome bundle to my family and friends... In a way, it was like he never existed.

I walked around with a swollen belly, that appeared to be with child... though it was empty.

Having another child did not heal my pain. It filled that spot in me that was silently screaming within... empty... but slowly being filled with hope. I knew that there was no guarantee that we would conceive another child, BUT... God graced us with another precious boy.

Oh, how my heart leaped, when my eyes witnessed that pastel pink line travel along the pregnancy window. I remember feeling like I was walking atop the clouds. I felt like I had redeemed my motherhood...

I had been given this blessing, six months after loosing Isaiah. I had an emotional roller coaster ride ahead of me. Many ups and downs, but God saw me through each one.

The twist to my pregnancy after the loss of Isaiah... My body began to react with the same conditions within my uterus, as I had with Isaiah. I was told that there was a blood clot forming around the amniotic sac... and that no heartbeat was to be found...

You will have to read the following post that I had written on Ezekiel's first birthday, to fully grasp the story of our miracle baby.

He.Is.Alive.

God.Had.The.Final.Word.



Here is the post:


When I reflect on the past year, I can't help, but be taken back to the nine months of my pregnancy with you. I'll never forget seeing the pink positive line on my pregnancy test. With excitement and fear entangled as one, I called everyone I knew. We were having another baby!

Ezekiel, until you're older, you may not realize what a true miracle you are. At five weeks pregnant, my body started to fight what God had knit in my belly. I started to bleed and have the same problems that had taken place with your brother, Isaiah. To say that I was terrified, would be an understatement.

I went in for an ultrasound, and there was no heartbeat to be found. My heart sunk. My soul was crushed. Why?.....

The next day, because of the amount of bleeding, daddy took me to the E.R. They told me that I was miscarrying.

On the drive home, I could feel life inside of me. I could feel that you were still hanging on. I would NOT give up on you! I refused. I prayed with power from the depths of my being, a prayer of a mother that just can't say goodbye to another child.

GOD HEARD.

GOD ANSWERED.

People throughout the world began to pray. On their knees. In the morning. Throughout the day. At bedtime. Spreading the word.

You began to grow. Kick. Suck your thumb.

The blood clots began to go away.




We found out that we were having another little boy. How wonderful!



Each week, I got to watch my belly grow.



On the morning of October 16, 2009, we were preparing for your birth. I had this weight on my shoulders, full of fear. Fear of death. Is my child going to be born alive? Is my body going to be able to handle another birth? Another surgery. I pray unceasingly.



At 9:21 a.m., you take your first breath of life...... I exhale the cloud of death that consumed my thoughts, and took my first breath of hope.



You are our sweet angel.



My rainbow.



You have brought this family so much joy. Happiness. Laughs.



You are not a replacement for the loss of your brother. You are a beautiful addition to our family.

God took my broken heart. My broken dreams........ and filled my arms.

Thank you God.

You ARE good!

HAPPY BIRTHDAY :o) Ezekiel Isaiah Ross :o)

I love you.

(End of Post.)




Ezekiel's middle name had been chosen in honor of his big brother... Isaiah. The two of them will meet someday in heaven, but until then...

My Isaiah rests in the arms of God... and Ezekiel carries on the smiles, hugs, kisses and love of a mother's dreams that were shattered, but slowly being brought together, one day at a time.

Until we meet again.

Walking With You ~ Mirror, Mirror ~ The Comparison Trap

This weeks talk on Walking With You: "Mothers often fall into the trap of comparing ourselves to one another. This is a trap many women fall into. We compare our families, mothering styles, fashion sense, careers or lack thereof, bodies, etc. Even mothers with babies in heaven compare the way we grieve our children. I know…sad…but we do it, if we’re honest enough to admit it. So, how can we find freedom from this? Sharing is a start…telling the truth…admitting the struggle. I think, then, we will see that we all love our children, regardless of how we choose to remember and honor their lives…whether publicly or quietly…with big parties or simple moments of remembrance. Be real on this week’s post, and let’s free ourselves from the trap of comparing!"


I often struggle on feeling as though my image needs to be equal or above that of other mother's/women, but quickly realize that we are all created in His image... so technically, we are all the same. When it comes down to the way I compare myself to another bereaved mother, and how she chooses to remember her child(ren), well the answer is simple, I don't. I have always felt completely comfortable in reading on how a mother was extravagant, or simple in the way in which she chose to honor the life of her child(ren). My problem stretches among the judgemental people, who turn their noses up... point their finger at how I choose to honor my son.

When it comes to keeping the memory of my son alive, I become a fierce mother... just as I am to the four precious boys that I endlessly take care of and give a tender motherly love to, on a daily basis...

In the beginning of my loss, I would mother Isaiah in secret. I had a feeling of shame as I thought on little things that I wanted to do for him. Just because of his absence in my physical life, did not mean that I did not have a mother's natural instinct to show my love to and for my child. I carried him within my womb for 19 weeks and 3 days. As each day passed, I grew more aware of his personality... I bonded with my son. I fell in love with the daydreams I had of holding him... loving him... bringing him home from the hospital... raising him.


I was his mama.

I.Am.His.Mama.


The duty of being a mother, does not get erased just because your child died. I know that can be a scary word, especially when speaking of a tiny innocent baby dying, but it happens. Instead of the weird looks or thoughts of others, I think that there could be a little more compassion for the parents who want to memorialize the life of their child. The world kept spinning, as our hearts became shattered. Some women, including myself, become frantic, trying to search for each piece, so that we can bring the pieces back together. It may be days, weeks, months, and some years... we have taken on a new shape, but that one very special piece cannot be found... Our child(ren) are gone, but somehow, still remain here with us. We medicate that empty hole, that missing piece, by doing unique things... whether it be that empty spot at the table, in the car, under the Christmas tree, on the blanket watching fireworks, etc. Our hearts become marinated in the love that we are able to give.

Have you ever thought what love really is, or what is the best way to show love?


Wikipedia states: "Love is an emotion of a strong affection and personal attachment."

I would have to agree to the above definition. I loved that little boy more than my fingers can type in an expression to describe... Personal attachment? I would have to fill my lungs with every ounce of oxygen that I could inhale, and shout out "Yes!"

God had to forsake Jesus at the cross... He never asked me to do the same to my son.


No more feeling shameful.

No more hiding.

No more whispering.

No more giving excuses.



He was my little boy.

He.Is.My.Little.Boy.



Until my dying day, I will mother my son, Isaiah Christopher Ross.

It may be by placing his baby chick on his grave at Easter, a pumpkin in the fall, a wreath during the Christmas season, having his birth date/name/footprints engraved in my back, etc. It may be as simple as baking and decorating a cake in honor of his life... of my deep undying love for my child...

This was Isaiah's 2nd. birthday cake. I bought the star candles to give it a little bit of heaven, and the two candles in the middle were for his birthday. While we were singing "Happy Birthday," the two middle candles went out, just as if he were there with us in that very moment, silently participating... whispering, "I am here mama... I love you"......



“You've gotta dance like there's nobody watching,
Love like you'll never be hurt,
Sing like there's nobody listening,
And live like it's heaven on earth.”
― William W. Purkey